Sugar and Spice
by kate04
Summary: She was the good girl. He was the bad boy. But, together, they were something more, something perfect. The were sugar and spice. A series of D/Hr drabbles written for the LJ community dramione ldws. Drabbles are no more than 499 words. Please R&R.
1. Refreshing Memories

_**Story Notes:** This "story" is actually a series of drabbles I've written for the LJ community dramioneldws._

_**Story Disclaimer:** I'm not JK Rowling. The whole Harry Potter universe belongs to her. I just like to manipulate her world and the characters in it. For the love of all that's holy, do not sue me._

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_**Week:** One  
**Prompt:** Must take place in a library  
**Word Count:** 499  
**Rated:** NC-17  
**Warnings:** Sexual Content_

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**Refreshing Memories**

Her face was flushed and her hair tousled. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was labored. Her body was covered in sweat and her legs shook.

Leaning her head back, she rested it on the shelf of the bookcase. She knew it was wrong. Merlin, it was so wrong, but she couldn't stop herself. There was something about being in the library – the smell of aging parchment, the color of the ink on the pages, the frayed edges of the books, _something_ – that made her body quake with need. There was something about being in the library with _him_ – his chiseled jaw, his perfect blond hair, the sexy smirk on his lips – that made her throw all her inhibitions to the wind.

And he knew it.

"Oh, Merlin, don't stop," she groaned, her husky voice sounding foreign to her.

He pushed in harder, causing her skull to crack into a large tome. She barely noticed.

"You're so tight," he growled into her ear before slamming into her again. She felt a surge of pleasure wash through her aching core. She loved it like this: rough and fast. It made the forbidden act so much more…intense.

She raked her nails down his back, reveling in the way they left long, red marks on his porcelain skin. He rewarded her efforts with a bite on the neck and thrusting into her harder.

Her breathing became more erratic as he drove himself into her. The shelves were pressing into her back and she was sure she'd have marks later, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to topple over the orgasmic cliff she was running toward and get sucked up into the ocean of euphoria at the bottom.

She was so close...and getting impatient.

"Finish it!" she ground out between clenched teeth, biting down on his shoulder as he reached down to press his thumb to her aching clit.

"Hermione?"

Hermione whipped her head around so fast she felt the pain shoot through her neck _before_ she heard the cracking sound.

Her hand went to her neck instantly and she groaned loudly. At the same time Draco shot out of his chair across from her and knelt beside her. "Merlin, Hermione, are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm fine."

He rubbed his hand over her neck gently and then dropped it to her bare knee. They were quiet for a moment – Draco staring and Hermione adjusting herself, trying to calm the shudder that rushed through her body during her daydream.

"You were thinking about it again, weren't you?"

She looked at him innocently. "Whatever are you talking about, Malfoy?"

He smirked and she melted. "Our first time." His eyes glanced over at their bookshelf across from _their_ usual table in the back.

"I'm sorry? _'Our first time_'?" she grinned.

Swift as a stalking cat, he pulled her from her chair and pressed her against the bookshelf. Her breath hitched in her throat. "Oh yes," he smirked, "Let me refresh your memory."


	2. Two Truths and a Lie

_**Week:** Two  
**Prompt:** Lies, Lies, Lies  
**Word Count:** 250  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** None_

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**Two Truths and a Lie**

"I sleep naked every night." His face was a mask of indifference. "I jog six miles a day." She rolled her eyes. "And I wear women's knickers."

Hermione burst into laughter before Draco could finish his last sentence. "Oh Merlin, this was supposed to be hard, Malfoy," she said finally, though tears streamed down her eyes. "Of course you don't wear women's knickers."

Draco looked annoyed. "What makes you think that?"

"I-I-I'm sorry?" She abruptly stuttered to a stop. Merlin, he was bloody serious.

"That is _not_ the correct lie, Granger."

"It has to be," she argued. Hermione refused to believe Draco Malfoy wore women's knickers. It just could not be.

"I believe you sleep naked every night."

He smirked and she blushed.

Hermione rushed forward, "And your physique clearly states that you're an avid jogger."

He grinned and she felt her heart race.

Firmly: "But I refuse to believe you wear women's knickers. It's impossible."

Draco leaned back in his chair, extremely smug with himself. "Ah, Granger, what little you know." He glanced at his perfectly manicured nails and said, "I don't jog six miles a day."

"W-w-what?"

He looked at her stunned face. "Thank you for the ego-boost about my physique (she blushed again), but I don't jog. It's wretched."

She was quiet for a moment. "Women's knickers?" It couldn't be.

"Ever since that Muggle movie _John Tucker Must Die_ was released, I've worn them. That man was right; my best friend is sleeping in a silk hammock."


	3. You Already Have

_**Week:** Two  
**Prompt:** Lies, Lies, Lies  
**Word Count:** 250  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** None  
**Notes:** I wrote two different drabbles for week two. This is the **one** I did not turn in._

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**You Already Have**

"Sometimes I don't understand you, Malfoy." Her words dripped with acid. "First you love me. Then you hate me. Then you love me again. Now you hate me all of a sudden?!" Her voice was becoming shrill. "Make up your mind already!"

He fixed a perfected sneer on his face and forced the lie out through clenched teeth. "I don't love you, Granger." He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. "I never have and I never will." He had to save her. This was the only way. "You've been nothing to me, but a good lay. You disgust me!"

She tried to keep the tears from falling, but they fell anyway. Her heart was broken into a million pieces. "I knew better." She spit the words out at him, trying to sound as harsh as possible and failing. "You'll never change. You'll always be Draco Malfoy, Death Eater. You don't care about anyone."

He wanted to shout at her the truth: _Of course I care. Don't you understand? I'm doing this to save you!_

Instead: "Glad to see you're finally getting the picture, _Mudblood_."

The word didn't hurt. At least, not as much as the cold look in his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

"I don't ever want to see you again, Granger." His tone was icy, freezing her already dying heart. "And if I do, I'll kill you myself."

Her eyes opened wide, but not in fear. He wanted to cry when she said, "You already have."


	4. Passion

_**Week:** Three  
**Prompt:** Hogwarts  
**Word Count:** 499  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** None  
**Notes:** I wrote two drabbles this week - again. This is the drabble I did not turn in._

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**Passion**

"I can't believe you gave my son a _T_ on his very _first_ paper! For the love of Merlin, woman, he's only a first year. He hasn't the slightest idea what he's doing!"

Hermione scoffed. "That's no excuse for poor work, Malfoy, and you know it. Besides, you're hardly one to talk; he said you gave him a _D_ on his very first _assignment_."

"That's completely different," Draco said, folding his arms across his chest, looking indignant.

"Hardly," she said, pointing her wand at the open books on her desk; they each closed and then stacked themselves on her desk. "Your first assignment was to have them write their names on a piece of parchment, along with their favorite food, candy, and Quidditch team. That's not even an assignment!"

He followed her out of her office. The halls of Hogwarts castle were far from quiet; dinner had just finished in the Great Hall and the children were walking, stomachs stuffed, towards their common rooms. Unfortunately, the large crowd couldn't deter their argument.

"I'll have you know, _Granger_, he didn't put his _full_ name on the parchment."

"Because I'm sure there's another _Scorpius_ somewhere in this school," Hermione shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Draco continued on as if he'd never heard her. "This is neither here nor there. You gave him a _Troll_ grade. A Troll! On a paper about the bloody boring history of Goblin Wars! It's just not right! It's a blemish on his very new, blemish-free record!" The tone of Draco's voice was hitting close to hysteria. If Hermione weren't so annoyed with him, she'd burst into laughter at such an outrageous sight.

"Honestly, Draco, the Goblin Wars are not bo-"

"My son is much smarter than a troll, Granger!" Draco interrupted. "MUCH SMARTER!"

The students in the hallway stopped to witness the blowout between two of their favorite professors, awe evident in their wide eyes.

"Would you stop calling him _your_ son, already?" Hermione shouted back. "Your son, your son, blah, blah, blah! He's _our_ son, you moron!"

The two professors were mere inches away from each other and the children looked on in wonder; surely they were going to kill each other.

"I'm surprised you even take claim to him!" Draco shouted. "No son of _yours_ would ever do T-worthy work!"

"How dare you!" Hermione screamed, her chest heaving in anger. "I _love_ my son!"

"Well, I love him, too!"

What one second was a screaming match to end all screaming matches was now slightly more explicit as the two professors wrapped themselves around each other, locked passionately together at the mouth. Jaws dropped, whispers escalated, and one brave fifth-year loudly said, "Oh, Merlin, they're at it again."

This last bit broke them apart and, with flaming faces, Hermione and Draco scooted the children on their way.

Two stayed behind.

"Wow, your parents sure are passionate about you," Albus Potter said.

Scorpius buried his face in his hands muttering, "They are so embarrassing."


	5. Tainted!

_**Week:** Three  
**Prompt:** Hogwarts  
**Word Count:** 499  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** None_

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**TAINTED!!**

The fireplace across from her desk, where she was grading papers, roared emerald green and before the flames were gone she heard him shouting.

"Granger!" His voice was harsher than usual, but Hermione bit back her instinctive need to shout out a retort; it was better to let him rant. "How dare you give my son a _T_?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but apparently it was a rhetorical question.

"A _T_? Merlin, no Malfoy has ever received a Troll grade! Who are you trying to kid, woman?"

Hermione went to stand, but he was quickly beside her, towering over her, and still shouting.

"And, honestly, what first year is going to write a perfectly good essay on the Goblin Wars? They're bloody boring and of absolutely no consequence to these children, including my son!"

Hermione tried to interject. It was one thing to yell at her, but it was quite another to call part of her favorite subject boring. "If you'd plea-"

"I'm not finished!" Draco shouted back.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him menacingly, but allowed him to continue.

"With that ridiculous _T_, Scorpius' blemish-free record is tainted! Tainted before he was even at this school an entire year!"

"Malf-"

"TAINTED!" He screamed, slightly hysterical. "I won't have it, Granger! I won't!"

Hermione finally stood up, but his finger was pointed into her face instantly.

"Scorpius is much smarter than a troll!"

Hermione had had enough. Screaming at her and interrupting her she could handle. She understood Draco's need to defend his child, but pointing his finger directly in her face…

Hermione saw red.

Quick as lightening, her hand grabbed hold of his finger and she twisted. Pain shot across Draco's face and she almost grinned in triumph.

"I'll have you know, Malfoy, that Scorpius turned in a paper that was not worthy of a grade higher than a _T_. It was sloppy, incomplete, and almost completely incorrect."

She twisted his finger further and watched as he cringed back from her slightly.

"Also, I can understand your want – no your _need_ – to come here and defend the young Malfoy, but I can assure you it will be in your best interest, from now on, to stay home. I will let it slip by this time, but I will not allow you to travel to Hogwarts, unannounced, again, e_specially_ when you feel it's necessary to scream at me."

Hermione backed Draco down into a student's desk before she finally let go of his finger. He rubbed at it absentmindedly before she thrust her own finger into his face.

"And finally, I will not tolerate you getting into my face like that, wagging that ridiculous finger at me and exerting your so-called power." Hermione's voice held the edge of authority and finality, something that even Draco Malfoy couldn't argue with.

"Any questions?" she finished.

Draco tilted his head and smirked. "Yes, when are you coming home? I want to have hot make-up sex with my hot, know-it-all wife."


	6. I Hate You

_**Week:** One  
**Prompt:** Hermione's Birthday Surprise Party  
**Word Count:** 389  
**Rated:** PG  
**Warnings:** None  
**Notes:** Takes place September 29, 2009_

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**I Hate You**

Music and yelling in the next room.

"I…"

"Don't say something you're going to regret, Granger."

"Hate…"

Shaking head: "Now you've done it."

"You."

"You know, that hurts."

Screaming: "I don't bloody care, Draco! What were you thinking?"

"That it's your birthday, of course."

"So, what, you thought you'd mark my transition into the ancient by inviting all our friends over and throwing me a bloody _surprise_ party?"

Pointedly: "Thirty is not ancient, love."

"It bloody well is!"

Sighs.

"And that's not the point, Draco! We have a rule: no parties."

"If I recall correctly, that's my rule."

Annoyed: "That rule applies to _both_ of us!"

"You might want to keep your voice down, Granger, you'll disturb the happy partygoers."

Towards the door: "All those people out there… Merlin, Draco, why?"

"I already told you; it's your birthday."

"That doesn't mean it has to be celebrated!"

Angry: "It bloody well does!"

Silence.

Staring.

Glaring.

More silence.

"I still hate you."

Laughing: "You'll get over it."

"Pfft."

"I got you something."

Intrigued: "I thought we also agreed on a _'no presents'_ rule?"

Shrugging: "Some rules are made to be broken."

Grumpy: "Apparently."

"Open it."

"You're just trying to make it up to me for this ridiculous party."

"You mean '_this ridiculous party you're refusing to attend in order to scream at me for planning'_."

Smirking: "Same difference."

"Open it, Granger."

Silence.

With a gasp: "Draco?"

"To _'mark your transition into the ancient'_, I thought I'd ask you the one question we've been dancing around for the last two years."

Staring.

On one knee: "I practiced this speech for twenty-five minutes in the bathroom mirror today and it never sounded right. Finally, I realized why: anything I say to you would only be cliché and we are not a cliché, Hermione."

Mouth agape.

"I love you. Merlin, it seems so simple and not nearly enough, but it's what's right. It's us. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you – as my wife."

Tears streaming.

"Please, Hermione, say you'll be my wife."

Whispered: "Yes."

Passionate kissing.

Silence broken in the next room: "SHE SAID YES!"

Cheers.

Appalled: "You told them?"

Sheepishly: "Well, the invitation did have a dual purpose: Birthday _and_ Engagement Party."

Giggling: "I really hate you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."


	7. His Centerpiece

**Week: **Six  
**Prompt:** Outside Looking In  
**Word Count:** 495  
**Rated:** G  
**Warnings:** None  
**Notes:** The flowers mentioned below are gorgeous and I recommend takingt he time to have a look at them. Also, I used my skip during week five. That prompt was Cliches, but I just couldn't do it. Sorry folks.

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**His Centerpiece**

"Seriously, Draco, you can't do that."

"And why not, Granger?" My son's response is as snarky as always, but the twinkle in his eye doesn't go unnoticed… by me anyway.

"Because," Hermione answers with a smile, "if Pansy catches you hovering her centerpieces filled with priceless, and rare, phalaenopsis, nymphea coerulea and neomarica caerulea, she will have your head on one of those shiny, silver platters."

I want to chuckle as Draco rolls his eyes, but stop myself when he gently drops the floating vases anyway. "Leave it to you to give them their proper names, Granger," he mumbles.

Watching them work together has become one of my favorite pastimes over these past few months. Preparing for Pansy's wedding has been more… _enlightening_… than I could ever have imagined.

Though Draco had kept his voice low, Hermione heard him. "I find the technical names of the flowers to be beautiful and eloquent." Her eyes take on a dreamy, faraway look and I notice the nearly-invisible smirk form on Draco's lips.

I never would have become aware of the budding relationship between Draco and Hermione if Pansy hadn't taken a leap outside her comfort zone and began dating Ronald Weasley. Those of us who know Pansy best were shocked by the news at first, but love her enough to see he is what makes her happy.

"You are a hopeless romantic, Granger."

And it is plain to see who makes my son happy.

Hermione grins. "I never said I wasn't." Draco and I both watch as she meticulously places one of the vases in the exact center of one large, round table. "Besides, these flowers are stunning; they deserve to be called by their proper name."

I spent so many of my younger years in a home that showed no less than pure hatred towards those who weren't of a pure bloodline. And at one time, I may have shared some of those views. It was not outside my comfort zone to call someone, like Hermione, a Mudblood.

I confess, however, that it's hard to hate Hermione.

Draco sets a vase on another table, not nearly as centered as Hermione's. "So, you're saying that all things beautiful and stunning and so forth should be called by their proper name?" I know my son well enough to see he's attempting nonchalance with his question; to me, the underlying meaning is bright as the midday sun.

"Of course," she replies as she leans over to adjust Draco's poorly-centered vase. "It shows respect, admiration, and appreciation. You, of all people, should appreciate and admire true beauty, Draco." Her lips quirk into a smile.

It is so hard to hate her when I see so much of myself in her; she vivacious, quick-witted, and smart as a whip.

Draco smiles, a real smile – something I haven't seen him do in years. "I do, Hermione Granger, I really do."

It's also extremely hard to hate someone my son loves so much.


	8. Kaleidoscope of Pulsing Shades

**Week:** Seven  
**Prompt:** Fall  
**Word Count:** 400  
**Rated:** G  
**Warnings:** None  
**Notes:** This is my last drabble in this series. I was voted out of the competition this past week. Thanks to all of you who have read this "story", reviewed it, and loved it. You've been great.

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**Kaleidoscope of Pulsing Shades**

It was the kind of day– the kind of scene– an artist can only dream about.

In a small, nearly-deserted park in the middle of London, autumn had finally presented itself. The rain had stopped the day before, but the sky was still slightly overcast; it caused the late afternoon rays of sunshine to spread softly across the changing trees, giving off a kaleidoscope of pulsing shades. The cool breeze blew gently against the fallen leaves littering the walkway, pushing them into the open air and carrying them towards the north end of the park. It was there, nestled beneath a large painted oak tree, that they stood. In that sea of colour– vibrant red, burnt orange, crisp yellow, fading green– the couple stood; their fingers were entwined and their bodies close.

The contrast between them was striking– her eyes as dark as his light; his hair as blond as hers brown; she as short as he tall. Yet, the way they looked at each other was one and the same. They were in love– so completely, so truly– and the intensity of their gaze could warm the brisk, autumn air.

Leaves swirled at their feet as he pushed a stray curl behind her ear and kept his bare hand against her reddened cheek. She rubbed that cheek against his hand before turning her lips to press them against his palm.

"I'll only be gone until December." His words were hoarse, laced with emotion, but he smiled at her warmly, trying to allay both of their fears.

A single tear slipped from her eye and, as if the wind knew her pain, it pressed against them colder than before. "I wish it were here already." Her voice quivered with unshed tears and she took a small step closer to him.

Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her thin shoulders draped in a much too lightweight coat and pulled her against his chest. He buried his face into her dishevelled curls and sighed. "I know," he murmured. "I know."

She nodded; the tears fell harder.

The clouds broke just as the sun was setting below the horizon. The couple stood, arms wrapped around each other, and watched the reds and purples of the sky mix together with the russets and auburns of fall, each wondering what the next season would bring.

And an artist looked on with a sigh of content satisfaction.


End file.
